Something to Fight For
by ShawThang
Summary: One shot fic- BA angst and romance abounds. If the people you love are gone, what is left to fight for?


__

Title: Something to Fight For

Summary: One shot fic- angst and romance abounds. If the people you love are gone, what is left to fight for?

Genre: Angst/Romance

Setting: Somewhere between Angel seasons 3 and 4. 

Author's Note: Because this is my fic, I'm taking fanfiction liberty and slightly changing canon. Gunn and Fred rescue Angel before Season 4 begins.

~~~

****

Something to Fight For

Fred laughed happily as Gunn lifted her into his arms and planted a light kiss on her forehead. He glanced at Angel and shrugged apologetically. Angel held up his hands in mock surrender and hastily retreated, the door quickly closing behind him. He shook his head in wonder when he heard Fred squeal and laugh behind the door and hurried out of hearing distance from the couple. Making his way downstairs, Angel tried to force himself to be happy for his two friends. He could not.

The past year had been a paradox of emotions, feelings and thoughts. Cordelia's disappearance and Connor's deception had devastated him, and it had taken all the inner strength he possessed not to give up once he had been rescued from the bottom on the ocean. His summer in the deep, cold depth had made him realize so many things, although between the hallucinations and delusions he could not see where he had time for sane thoughts. 

Angel's feelings for Cordelia had changed over the past year though, and the love he once felt for his seer had evolved into something much deeper, more genuine. The bond he shared with her would never be broken, no matter how long it took her to return, if she ever did. However, the passion and longing he had felt for her physically no longer consumed him and he accepted that he never would feel that way again. She would never be any more than his best friend, and he would never want her to be any less. 

Everyday he thought of his best friend, confidant and seer, and everyday he ached for her return. He never once thought that she was dead, because he knew that he would know if she were. He had not spent more than two days without looking for hints and signs of her whereabouts. Where could she have gone? Every now and then Angel would hit rock bottom and believe that maybe she had wanted a normal life, and had left him. Subconsciously, he knew that she would never do such a thing, but the thought still haunted him. 

Angel felt a pang of regret whenever he thought of his son. Connor had disappeared after his betrayal, with neither Fred nor Gunn seeing him since. He worried about him endlessly despite his obvious ability to care for himself. He doubted that he would ever see his son again, but he still held a small sliver of hope that one day he would be able to speak to him, to explain what had happened.

Angel sighed as he slumped into the seat in Wesley's old office. Wesley. He hadn't seen the ex-Watcher since the incident at the hospital. He had debated whether to go see his old friend, but always decided against it when he remembered that Connor would still be with him had it not been for Wesley. However, sometimes he caught himself about to call out for Wesley, before remembering that he was no longer there. He would not admit that he missed the shrewd and resourceful Watcher. 

Angel moved to pick up another book to research the demon Gunn, Fred and himself had killed last night, when his eye caught on a dusty folder on the shelf. He hesitated, but then rose from the chair and grabbed it from the shelf. Bringing it back to the desk, he took an unnecessary breath before opening it. 

He glanced at the first photo. It was a baby photo of Connor that Cordelia had taken while he was asleep in his crib. He smiled sadly at the beautiful infant and the innocence he held. How he had loved holding the tiny figure in his arms, awe and wonder washing over him at the thought that he had created this amazing child. He had wanted nothing more than to protect and love that boy, right until the end. If only...

The next was a photo taken by Groo just before Wesley's betrayal and Connor's kidnapping. It was one of the entire Angel Investigation's team. Gunn and Fred stood by each other's side, Gunn's arm around the petite woman's waist. Angel stood beside the couple, his hand on Cordelia's shoulder, who was lounging on the couch in front of him, holding a smiling Connor. Lorne sat beside the seer, a silly grin on his face. The whole team looked surprisingly blissful and carefree. If only...

The next was a photo of the recent Scooby Gang. Xander stood beside a vaguely familiar blonde woman, while Willow stood with her arm around an attractive blonde woman who he guessed was Tara. Giles stood on the side and Buffy and Dawn were crouched in front of them. They looked worn, tired and frustrated. Willow had sent this to him a few months ago, only days before Tara had been killed and Willow had began her quest for revenge. She had also written a detailed letter of the gang, focusing on Buffy. He had been devastated when he read of how she had dealt with returning, and chastised himself for not being there for her. Maybe if he had been there in the first place she would not have died. Glancing back at the photo, Angel imagined what the photo would look like if he were in it. If only...

Angel put it aside and lifted the next one. It was of Cordelia and Doyle, fighting flirtatiously, unaware of the camera. Angel remembered taking the photo with a small, wistful smile. Their bickering had been incessant and had been hilarious to watch. He could not resist the temptation. He had never shown either of them this photo. Angel closed his eyes at the painful reminder of the half-demon who had put him on his path in Los Angeles. The original A.I team: Doyle, Cordelia, and himself. If only...

He slipped it beneath the earlier photos and found himself looking at a photo of the original Scooby Gang. Giles was grumpily scowling at the camera and Willow was leaning happily against a smiling Oz. Xander was looking decidedly hapless at Cordelia's scowl, but his arm around her shoulder informed Angel that this was taken when they were a couple. Buffy and himself were standing beside them. Angel could see that his arm was tentatively placed around her waist and she was holding his other hand. The whole group was smiling, unaware of the changes that would soon tear apart their lives. If only...

Angel knew what came next. It was his favorite, but he hated the feelings it dredged up. He glanced at it nonetheless. Buffy's face smiled back at him from the sketch, the fine lines making her appear young but wise, innocent but seductive, alert but beautiful. He had asked her if he could draw it one night after patrol, but had not managed to finish it before she ran home as the sun rose. Buffy had forgotten about it and he had never thought to show her. The memories were still painful, and though he loved it with vehemence, he hated the sketch with a passion. If only...

He let the photo slip from his fingers and rested his head in his hands. Life had come to a stand still. He was in between apocalypses, with two friends disappearing, a son missing, and his heart still in another city. When had life become so drear, that he was too uninterested to continue his journey for redemption? When had he decided that nobody needed him, and that he was fighting a losing battle? He sighed heavily, running his fingers through his short hair. Was there a point to anything anymore? 

The shrill ring of the phone sliced through his silent, desperate despair, and he begrudgingly rose to answer it. He could not decide whether to answer it as his hand hovered uncertainly over the phone. What was the point?

"Hello?"

"Angel?"

Her delicate voice floated through the phone and Angel felt the tension dissolve from his body. His shoulders slumped and his face softened, making him appear years younger. Suddenly, he had his answer. He did not know how hearing her speak his name could resolve all his troubles and doubts, but suddenly, he did not despair. He did not doubt. All the problems that riddled his life would be resolved, for good or for bad, was left to decide. But none of that mattered, because while she was alive, all was good in the world. 

"Buffy?"

While she was his girl, he had something to fight for. And he had to remember that. Always. 


End file.
